


Flanders

by tattooeddevil



Category: War Horse (2011)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie Stewart always kept that drawing James Nicholls made of Joey. When his granddaughter finds it, his past comes rushing back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flanders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [creepy_shetan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/gifts).



"Look Grandpa, a horse!"

Hannah's shrill voice pierced the silence that had settled over the attic as they rummaged through the old chests of Jamie's history. Dust-covered army memorabilia, notebooks filled with thoughts and hopes and dreams, love letters to Jamie’s late wife. He'd been so lost in memories that he hadn't noticed his granddaughter losing interest in the old toys from her mother's childhood and moving on to the one chest he kept hidden away from all eyes. Even his own.

The chest marked "James".

The seven-year-old charged across the wooden floorboards towards him, waving an all too familiar sketch like a flag. Her face was alight with joy at finding such a treasure, but his breath hitched and his heart skipped a painful beat instead.

_James_

Hannah threw herself into his lap and shoved the drawing-- _James' drawing_ \--against his chest. "Look Grandpa, look! It's a horse!"

His mind screamed at him not to, but his heart begged for him to take the paper between his shaking hands and hold it up in the waning afternoon light so he could see the fine lines, the strokes of charcoal, and the smudges along the edges where James' hand had rested. The care and love that James had put into the drawing for young Albert radiated in every stroke, in every line. The same care and love James put into everything.

Hannah was talking, but Jamie's mind was miles and years away. Back to that war, those horses and that man. His Captain, his friend, his confidant. He remembered the day they met, all those years ago, like it had happened yesterday. James was young, almost too young, but he was competent and loyal and fiercely determined. Jamie never admitted to it, but he had always been intimidated by James’ conviction and confidence. That day, the day Major Stewart was introduced to Captain Nicholls, Jamie’s life changed for the better.

“Did you draw this, Grandpa?”

Hannah’s voice was softer now, as if she had noticed the change in his mood. Maybe she had, children were far too perceptive sometimes. He lowered the sketch and smiled down at the sweet, precious little girl in his lap. Brilliant blue eyes looked up at him curiously, and he was instantly reminded of another set of bright blue eyes.

Bright blue eyes that shone with kindness and warmth, and sometimes with mischief and joy. There wasn’t much room for the latter during the war though, and Jamie treasured those times of laughter and lightness with James as if they were rare diamonds or paintings. The way his face would light up when he laughed, taking years off his age. The smooth sound of his voice as he sang songs of love and peace when they brushed their horses and shone their shoes. The soft words he spoke in the dark of the night when everyone had gone to bed and all the fears and doubts about the war and their strategy would come pouring out of him on a quiver and a sob.

Even now it hurt his heart to think about those whispered words. Those words so desperate, helpless, frightened. Begging Jamie to offer comfort and promises he was unable to provide.

“Grandpa?”

A small, warm hand touched his cheek and he jumped slightly. Hannah was still looking up at him, but a worried frown had settled in between her eyebrows. Her tiny little fingers danced across his face and to his surprise, came away wet.

“Why are you crying, Grandpa?”

He hadn’t realized he was actually crying. He hadn’t cried in so long that the idea seemed foreign to him. Nothing was worth crying over after that fateful day in France, but for the day he lost the love of his life. It had felt the same, losing his darling wife and losing James. James was a friend, a brother, a partner, and his death had left such a big hole in Jamie’s heart he hadn’t been sure he’d ever recover from it. He had sat in that damp German cell, waiting for the fusillading, knowing he was to blame for James’ gruesome passing. Wishing it had been him instead.

He felt Hannah stand up and when he focused his attention back to her, she smiled hesitantly at him before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him close. “Don’t cry, Grandpa. I don’t like it when you’re sad.”

The feeling of having his little girl close and in his arms chased away the cobwebs of the war, and it filled him with warmth and joy. But it would never erase the look on James’ face when he realized they were charging into a German death trap from his mind. Which was exactly why he had kept that chest, the one with James’ drawings and the letters James had received from his family, in the far corner of the attic where they wouldn’t remind him of James too much. So he could get a week without the terrified look on James’ face or the image of Joey’s disappearing form haunting him in his dreams.

Hannah kissed him on the cheek before stepping back and taking the drawing from between his hands. “Can I have this, Grandpa? For over my bed?”

Jamie smiled, and brushed a lock of stray hair behind Hannah’s ear. James would have loved Hannah and Jamie was sure he would be proud to have his sketch above Jamie’s granddaughter’s bed. And who was Jamie to deny James, or Hannah, that?

“Of course, darling. Your mother can hang it up for you. I think James would be very happy that you like it so much.”

“James?”

Jamie smiled at Hannah and pulled her in his lap again. “Let me tell you about the kindest, most loyal and best friend I ever had.”


End file.
